CldLZ 


UJ 


Addresses 


Delivered  ox  the  Occasion  of  the  Dedication  of  Cooper  Medical 
College  Building, 


LEVI  C,  LANE, 


A.  M./M.  D.  (Jefferson  and  Berlin),  Professor  of  Surgery,  and  Member 
of  the  Royal  College  of  Surgeons,  London; 


EDWARD  R,  TAYLOR. 


A.   I,.    BANCROFT  A   COMPANV,   PRINTHRS,   SAN    FRANCISCO. 


L-.....-*- 


Addresses 


Delivered  ox  the  Occasiox  of  the  Dedication-  ok  Cooper  Medical 
College  Blildixg, 


LEVI  C.  LANE, 


A.  M.,M.  1).  (Jkkfkrson  and  Bkri.in),  Pkokkssor  ok  SruiiicKv,  and  Mkmiskr 
OF  nil".  Royai.  Collkc.k  of  Slrgkons,  I.ondov  ; 


EDWARD  R.  TAYLOR. 


A.    I..    I'ASI  KOKT    A    1  oMl-ANV,    I'KINIHKS,    S\N     IK^^l,l^'^.l 


K1^\  I 


ADDRESSES 


Dklivered  on  the  Occasion  of  the  Dedication  of  Cooper  Medical  College 

Building,  by  Levi  C.  Lane,  A.  M.,  M.  D.  (Jefferson  and  Berlin), 

Professor  of  Surgery  and  Memher  of  the  Royal 

College  of  Surgeons,  London;  and  isv 

Edward   R.   Taylor. 


The  exercises  were  commenced  by  conferring  the  Med- 
ical   Doctorate    upon    the    Students    who    had    recently 
graduated    in    Pacific    Medical    College,   (the  name   which 
the  institution  bore  prior  to  its  recent  incorporation  under 
^    the  name  of  Cooper   Medical  College,)  the   formula  used 
^    by  Dr.  Lane,   (the  donor  of  the  property,  and  President 
g5    of  the  institution,)  being  in  language  as  follows : 

Ij    Candidates  for  Graduation  : 

^  In  the  olden  days  of  scholastic  learning,  tlie  approacli 

'-=>  of  the  candidate  to  the  baccalaureate  threshhold  was  the 
scene  of  severe  contest  between  him  and  the  guardian 
authorities  ; '  and  the  witnesses  to  that  occasion  were 
entertained  by  the  clangor  of  lances  sharply  wielded  in 
dialectic  battle,  in  wliich  the  candidate  was  compelled  to 
prove  himself  fitted  for  the  honors  in  {question.  Dis- 
mantling this  famous  ceremony  of  its  ancient  dress,  I  will 
still  preserve  the  spirit  of  the  same  by  formally  announcing 
to  those  who  are  present  to  witness  )'our  graduation,  that 


.'$70653 


4 

you  have  complied  with  all  the  regulations  of  the  Pacific 
Medical  College ;  that  you  have  successfully  passed  the 
annual  examinations  of  a  three  years'  course  of  medical 
instruction  in  that  institution  ;  in  fine,  that  you  have  well 
run  the  appointed  curriculum.  As  a  reward  therefor,  the 
directors  and  faculty  of  the  Cooper  Medical  College,  under 
which  name  the  former  institution  is  now  incorporated, 
have  instructed  me.  its  President,  to  confer  upon  each  of 
you  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Medicine,  and  to  give  to  each 
of  you  the  diploma  of  this  institution  as  perpetual  and 
universal  evidence  of  such  promotion. 

DR,  LANE'S  ADDRESS, 

Afterwards  Dr.  Lane  delivered  the  following  valedictory 
address : 
Candidates  for  Graduation  in  the  Science  of  Medicine  : 

There  are  times  when  it  is  well  to  forsake  the  usual 
road  and  to  pursue  a  pathway  hitherto  untrodden.  The 
present  occasion  in  the  history  of  our  school  gives  such 
license,  and  permits  me  to  cast  aside  the  ceremonious  dress 
with  which  the  valedictory  address  is  usually  invested. 
During  your  long  training  of  three  years,  medicine  enough 
have  you  had,  and  mingled  therewith  a  due  amount  of 
moral  axioms  and  monitions ;  for  your  Faculty  strongly 
believe,  and  diligently  teach,  that  the  professional  character 
is  sadly  incomplete,  unless  high  scientific  training  be  con- 
joined with  equally  high  morals.  Besides,  in  the  classic 
words  of  your  diplomas,  the  same  fact  is  reiterated.     Leav- 


5 

ing.  tlierefore,  in  a  measure,  these  things  aside,  I  invite  you 
to  accompany  me  in  a  journey  which  I  recently  made  to 
the  Sierras.  There  let  us  breathe  afresh,  and  learn  some- 
thing- new  from  the  high  as  well  as  from  the  humble  forms 
of  nature,  for  we  find  the  two  commingled  in  the  closest 
society.  As  examples  of  the  lowly,  I  will  first  invite  your 
attention  to  a  blade  of  grass  beneath  a  pine-tree,  a  leaf 
from  the  pine,  and  a  hillock  of  ants  near  the  root  of  the 
tree. 

Near  the  eastern  end  or  head  of  Lake  Tahoe,  and  near 
the  foot  of  the  mountains  which  form  there  the  wall  of  the 
Jake,  now  stands  an  aged  pine,  if  some  covetous  axe  has 
not  been  laid  at  its  root;  and  as  I  saw  it  a  year  ago  the 
dense  foliage  of  this  tree  did  not  allow  a  broken  sunbeam 
to  reach  the  earth  around  its  huge  trunk.  In  this  sunless 
shadow  a  single  blade  of  grass  had  sprung  up,  battling,  as 
it  grew,  witli  a  constant  shower  of  missiles,  )et  defiant  of 
javelin  and  Minnie-like  cones,  it  had  risen  to  a  respectable 
height,  and  bending  to  and  fro  seemed  to  be  bowing  a 
welcome  to  me.  Without  the  stimulus  of  noiseless  sym- 
pathy, or  the  encouragement  of  approving  applause,  unaided 
by  any  but  its  own  innate  powers,  this  child  of  Nature  had 
fought  the  battle  of  life  well,  and  won  the  palm  of  successful 
existence.  Napoleon-like  it  had  survived  a  missile  warfare 
where  dano^er  was  as  rife  as  at  Lodi  and  Marenofo,  and  was 
wavingr  the  banner  of  unscathed  life.  But  its  kinsmen,  the 
scattered  remnants  of  which  were  visible,  had  been  less 
fortunate ;  destiny  had  assigned  to  them  the  lot  of  defeat, 
yet  one  was  moved  with  sympathy  for  their  misfortune,  and 


felt  like  applauding  them,  as  once  did  Napoleon  when 
meeting,  on  the  road,  wagons  of  the  wounded  which  his  own 
army  had  defeated,  he  turned  his  horse  out  of  the  way,  and 
lifting  his  hat,  he  said:  "Honor  to  the  unfortunate  brave." 
But,  turning  to  our  victor  again,  I  observed  that  it  had  not 
only  lived,  but  the  numerous  flowerets  adorning  its  purple 
crown  gave  proof  that^  obedient  to  the  laws  of  its  being,  it 
was  providing  for  an  ample  succession.  Whether  these 
children,  emulous  of  parental  example,  have  equaled  their 
mother  in  dogged  struggle  against  adversity,  or  whether 
they  have  fallen  in  the  pitiless  warfare  waged  against  them; 
whether  they  have  drawn  fair  or  dark  lots  from  the  urn  of 
Fate,  is  not  known ;  yet  the  sight  of  that  one  victorious 
stalk  of  grass  remains  with  me  as  a  pleasant  memory, 
teaching  what  perseverance,  even  on  a  small  scale,  can 
accomplish ;  and  the  example  taught  by  it  is  deserving  of 
your  imitation;  for  in  the  lower  as  well  as  in  the  higher 
walks  of  your  professional  lives,  adversity  must  come ; 
amidst  its  javelins  learn  to  stand  unflinching — unyielding. 

Besides  this  lesson  learned  from  this  frail  endogen,  it 
teaches  yet  another,  for  growing  from  the  inside,  and  send- 
ing out  its  shoots  from  the  centre,  so  that  the  young  and 
tender  ones  are  surrounded  and  protected  by  the  older  and 
stronger  leaves,  it  offers  a  perfect  instance  of  self-develop- 
ment ;  thus  growth  and  defensive  fortification  keep  pace 
with  each  other.  So  in  man,  as  in  this  little  plant,  per- 
manency of  character  arises  rather  from  inward  than  from 
outward  growth,  and  if  such  character  be  your  aim,  start 
from  the  inside  and  thence  grow.     In  the  solution  of  life's 


7 

problem  all  depends  on  starting  aright.  Further  illustration 
of  this  is  the  following  incident :  Some  years  ago,  when  in 
Berlin,  I  was  an  occasional  listener  to  the  lectures  of  the 
famous  Helmholtz.  On  one  occasion  his  hour  was  occupied 
in  the  solution  of  a  problem  of  physics  on  the  blackboard. 
The  work  consisted  of  a  long  series  of  algebraic  quantities, 
presented  in  the  form  of  equations.  The  final  result  reached, 
showed  that  an  error  had  been  made  in  some  part  of  the 
work,  when  the  professor  started  back  and  sought  for  the 
mistake.  It  was  only  after  much  worrying  review  that  he 
found  that  a  slight  error  had  been  made  in  the  very  com- 
mencement of  the  solution,  and  this  little  blunder  had  not 
only  clung  to  the  succeeding  links  of  the  work,  but  it 
grew  as  it  progressed,  and  at  the  end  wholly  vitiated  the 
conclusion. 

In  anotlier  stroll,  while  reading  an  epitomized  sunimary 
of  philosophy,  in  which  a  plea  was  made  for  philosophic 
study,  and  the  utility  of  the  same  defended  against  the 
encroachments  of  natural  science,  the  author  showing  in  the 
work  that  the  conclusions  of  Leibnitz  were  singularly  close 
to  and  coincident  witii  tlie  discoveries  of  Newton  ;  in  tiie 
midst  of  these  abstract  reveries,  my  attention  was  called  to 
something  more  concrete,  in  the  form  of  a  pine-leaf  that 
dropped  on  my  page,  and  for  a  time  became  the  subject  of 
thoughts,  which  are  here  offered. 

Looked  at,  the  fallen  object  was  needle-shapcn,  half 
faded  and  quite  in  the  sere  of  leaf-life,  and  not  half  as  long 
as  a  line  of  my  philosophic  lecture;  an  insignificant,  dimin- 
utive thing  apparently,  yet  if  one  lifted  it  ui)  and  hstencd  to 


8 

its  story,  he  heard  there  much  that  is  curious  and  instructive. 
This  story  is  as  follows :  A  few  months  ago  it  lay  with  a 
number  of  its  fellows  infolded  in  a  brown  bud,  its  destiny 
then  being  decided  by  its  position  on  the  parent-stem,  for 
according  as  it  occupied  basial  or  apical  site,  it  might 
become  leaf,  sepal,  petal,  stamen,  pistil,  or  germ  of  a  future 
tree ;  but  it  was  assigned  a  position  in  the  first  class, 
leaving  the  other  destinies  to  its  superjacent  brethren,  viz: 
it  became  a  leaf,  and  consequently  part  of  the  breathing 
apparatus  of  the  huge  organism  to  which  it  belonged ;  a 
breathing  organ  like  that  of  the  fish,  unfolded  instead  of 
infolded;  but  unlike  that  of  animals,  there  is  an  alternation 
of  function  here,  that  of  the  day  being  the  reverse  of 
that  of  night.  This  pulmonic  vesicle  of  ever-acting  chlo- 
rophyl  has  intimate  affinities  for  air  and  light,  and  through 
the  interchanging  interaction  between  the  subject  and  these 
media,  the  marvellous  processes  of  plant  life  are  main- 
tained. This  is  an  enviable  and  admirable  breath-cell, 
since  in  the  meshes  of  its  delicate  histology  the  hand  of 
disease  does  no  marring  by  the  planting  of  tubercle  cells  ; 
nor  are  its  perfect  walls  disfigured  by  distending  emphysema 
or  collapsing  atelectasis.  Hence  the  pine  with  its  incom- 
parable breathing  apparatus  does  not  prematurely  languish 
with  phthisical  decay. 

The  nutritive  elaborations  accomplished  in  this  tiny 
workshop,  were  done  noiselessly  by  the  genius  of  organic 
life  ;  in  that  laboratory  no  clashing  was  heard  of  the  cruci- 
ble, mortar,  blow-pipe  and  furnace ;  the  attentive  ear  could 
have  caught  no  sound  of  bustle  or  confusion,  as  the  chemist 


9 

was  building  his  part  of  the  colossal  fabric  :  but  with  unerr- 
ing- aim  he  plied  his  craft,  now  selecting  this,  now  rejecting 
that  piece  of  building  material,  and  so  thoroughly  accurate 
was  he  in  all  the  details  of  his  art,  that  without  redundance, 
defect  or  mistake,  he  accomplished  his  task  perfectly  and 
without  ever  recurring  to  the  archetypal  sketch;  and  with 
equal  accuracy  and  even  more  marvellous  detail,  the  task 
was  done  when  the  workman's  hand  fashioned  the  floral 
leaflet,  the  staminate  crown,  the  pistillate  utricle,  or  the 
microscopic  germ  of  a  future  conifer. 

Besides,  this  leaf,  though  so  insignificant  in  form,  and  in 
power  apparently  so  feeble,  had  been  more  successful  than 
the  Titans  of  old,  since  it  had  caught  the  divine  sunbeams 
and  moulded  them  into  chains,  whereby  the  organic  elements 
of  the  pine  are  held  together  in  ever-enduring  matrimonial 
union,  and  as  forms  of  potential  tension  they  become  the 
equivalents  of  so  much  force  in  Nature's  exchequer. 

The  fallen  pine-leaf  has  had  but  a  brief  existence, 
measured  by  a  few  months  of  time  onl)-  ;  but  during  this 
time  it  has  done  its  work  so  well,  that  it  has  contributed 
to  the  growth  of  its  parent,  and  affixed  there  a  tablet 
that,  untarnished  by  storm,  season  or  time,  will  last  for 
generations. 

I  lencc,  the  tiny  pine-leaf  falling  on  the  page  of  Fichtrs 
subjective  idealism,  when  one  unfolded  its  scroll  and  read 
the  curious  history  written  there,  was  more  replete  with 
wisdom  than  I  could  find  in  the  abstruse  formula-  of  mental 
philosophy;  and  thought,  going  a  stej)  further,  told  me  that 
the  great  life-tree  of  humanity   lias    likewise  its  leaves,  of 


lO 

which  each  one  of  us  is  a  representative,  each  destined, 
if  he  works  well,  to  leave  upon  the  parent-trunk  a  little 
tablet. 

From  the  fallen  leaf,  my  attention  was  next  called  to  a 
hillock  of  ants  near  by ;  but,  as  its  story  is  rather  a  long 
one,  and  also  to  follow  the  order  of  Nature  in  which  the 
little  and  the  great  are  equally  commingled,  we  will  next 
stroll  to  a  cluster  of  pine-trees,  seven  in  number.  These 
natives  of  the  forests,  each  one  several  centuries  old,  had 
grown  to  their  present  strength  and  stature  within  a  few 
square  yards  of  earth ;  nay,  more,  may  grow  for  ages  yet 
to  come. 

The  savant  Flourens,  from  a  study  of  the  life-time  of 
animals,  and  deriving  his  rule  from  the  period  which  is 
required  for  the  animal  to  become  fully  grown,  taught,  in 
regard  to  the  measure  of  human  life,  that  the  normal  limit 
of  man's  life  should  be  one  hundred  and  twenty  years. 
Tried  by  Flourens'  rule,  which,  I  regret  to  say,  he  failed 
to  illustrate  in  his  own  life,  the  pine  should  live  unendingly, 
since  it  never  ceases  to  grow ;  it  remains  always  in  the 
freshness  of  youth — life  and  growth  being  coeval.  The 
lover  of  antiquity  need  not  go  abroad  to  find  objects  to 
which  he  may  do  homage,  for  these  trees  have  records  of 
years  upon  them  which  antedate  English  civilization ;  but, 
unlike  man,  in  whose  face  the  markings  of  the  years  are 
traced,  these  trees  have  folded  up  the  records  of  by-gone 
centuries,  and  buried  them  deeply  in  their  hearts. 

When  one  contemplates  these  trees,  as  examples  of 
constructive  skill,  the  study  is  full  of  interest  and  novelty. 


1 1 


This  union  of  strength  and  majesty  of  form  is  the  product 
of  two  factors — time  and  molecular  force — and  these,  in 
magnitude,  are  inversely  proportioned  to  one  another,  the 
factor  time  being  the  greater  one.  In  a  lecture  which  I 
once  heard  delivered  by  Becquerel,  Professor  of  Physics  at 
the  Museum  of  Natural  History,  Paris,  the  idea  was  ren- 
dered probable  that  the  processes  of  growth  resident  in  the 
radicles  of  the  plant  are  dependent  upon  electrical  action. 
As  in  the  animal  body  it  has  been  demonstrated  by  Du 
Bois  Reymond  that  there  are  constantly  playing  electric 
currents  between  the  centre  and  circumference  of  living 
muscles  and  nerves,  so  it  is  probable  that  the  terminal  radicle 
of  the  plant  is  but  a  galvanic  cell,  consisting  of  two  fluids — 
one  the  fluid  of  the  adjacent  earth  holding  numerous  saline 
materials  in  suspension,  and  the  other  the  organic  fluids  of 
the  plant,  the  two  being  divided  by  a  thin  wall  of  vegetable 
substance.  By  a  similar  arrangement  we  know  that  elec- 
tricity is  set  free  and  matter  precipitated  on  the  separating 
wall.  In  the  plant  the  material  thus  precipitated  from  the 
outside,  traverses  by  endosmosis  tlie  wall  upon  which  it  has 
been  precipitated,  and,  being  once  admitted,  becomes  plastic 
matter.  This  galvanic  element,  superior  to  the  chemist's, 
dispenses  with  amalgamation  in  order  to  constantly  work,  nor 
does  it  need  cleansing,  since  the  precious  matter  deposited 
on  the  plate  is  food  for  the  plant,  destined  to  be  converted 
into  l^ark,  wood  and  leaf  tissue.  Tiie  latter,  as  before 
shown,  becomes  an  ulterior  refining  and  finishing  workshop, 
in  which  the  cruder  matter,  i)assed  up  from  below,  under- 
goes its  final  elaboration  and  refinement. 


12 

Thus  we  see  that  from  materials  abstracted  from  tlie 
earth,  and  which  are  so  minute  that  no  tactile  corpuscle 
could  appreciate  them,  nor  auditor)^  ossicle  be  moved  by 
them,  though  they  had  fallen  from  a  mountain  height,  nor 
could  retinal  rod  perceive  their  impact — I  resume — from 
such  minute  stones  this  edifice  has  been  created,  and  in 
height  made  a  peer  of  the  Pyramids. 

The  voyager  of  the  Rhine  never  fails  to  visit  Cologne ; 
or,  as  the  Romans  called  it,  Colonia,  or  Colony.  If  he 
remembers  his  Tacitus,  this  spot  is  remarkable  to  the  trav- 
eler for  having  been  the  witness  of  a  victory  of  words  over 
swords,  for  it  was  near  here  that  Germanicus  quelled,  with  a 
few  well-chosen  words,  a  dangerous,  mutiny  of  the  Roman 
army.  But,  besides  this  and  other  associations,  mediaeval 
architecture  draws  most  persons  here.  Some  centuries 
ago  it  was  proposed  to  build  at  this  place  a  cathedral, 
which,  in  architectural  grandeur,  should  surpass  anything 
then  existing,  and  all  the  famous  architects  of  the  world 
were  requested  to  furnish  plans  for  the  same.  Among 
those  competing  was  an  ambitious  builder,  who,  desirous 
of  outstripping  all  the  others,  made  a  league  with  Satan  (a 
personage,  probably,  not  a  little  interested  in  the  matter,) 
that  if  he  would  aid  him  in  devising  plans  that  would  excel 
all  the  others,  he  should  have  his  soul  after  death.  Satan 
accepted  the  offer,  and  furnished  a  plan  which,  being  the 
wonder  and  astonishment  of  all,  was  accepted  as  the  best. 
But,  like  most  fraudulent  transactions,  the  architect's  secret 
leaked  out,  and  the  faithful  of  the  church  were  much  morti- 
fied at  the  ill-pliglit  in  which  the  builder  was  placed  ;  and 


for  the  purpose  of  finding  some  refuge  for  liiin,  they  con- 
sulted Saint  Ursula,  who  told  them  if  they  would  secure 
the  thigh-bone  of  Saint  Peter,  and  place  the  same  in  tlie 
builder's  hand  when  he  came  to  die,  it  would  nullify  his 
pact  with  Satan.  Thereupon  an  embassy  was  sent  to 
Rome,  the  bone  secured,  and  given  to  the  builder.  Satan, 
having  discovered  the  trick  that  had  been  devised  to 
defraud  him  of  his  rightful  plunder,  visited  the  builder, 
snatched  the  plans  away  from  him,  and,  venting  maledic- 
tions on  his  head,  declared  that  thereafter  no  one  should 
know  the  plan,  nor  in  future  should  anyone  know  the  archi- 
tect's name;  and,  true  to  Satan's  prediction,  the  plan  of 
the  original  architect  is  not  known,  nor  does  an\-  one  know 
his  name. 

But  a  better  fate  awaits  our  temple-pine  than  has  befallen 
the  old  Cathedral  of  Cologne.  The  architectural  plan, 
according  to  which  it  was  built,  has  been  revealed  to  us 
by  Galvani  and  Volta,  the  (juivering  foot  of  a  frog  touching 
the  opening-spring  of  this  greut  revelation. 

How  profoundly  impressive,  then,  the  thought,  when 
seated  among  this  group  of  [)ines,  that  countless  electric 
batteries  are  at  work  under  one's  feet — countless  forces, 
infmitely  little,  which  the  hand  of  Time  a[)plies  slowly  but 
incessantly  upon  the  long  arm  of  the  lever  tliat  hoists  the 
building  material  to  the  summit  of  this  lolty  fabric.  As 
motive  weights.  Time  silently  adds  hours  and  days  to  Iiis 
arm,  never  ceasing  until  he  gains  tiie  ascendant  over  tlic 
counterpoising  material.  Hut  v/lience  comes  tliis  building 
material  ?     Tiiis  introduces   the    lake   and   the   mountain — 


14 

two  other  great  objects  of  nature,  to  which  we  will  next 
direct  our  attention.  But  before  doing  so,  let  us  make  a 
short  diversion  from  the  high  to  the  lowly,  and  study  a 
hillock  of  ants  which  have  chosen  the  shadow  of  the  pine 
as  the  site  of  their  home ;  and  as  we  do  so,  the  intense 
activities  of  this  busy  community  rivet  both  eye  and  thought 
to  the  spot. 

Coming  nearer  to  the  ant-hill,  and  questioning  one  of 
the  outstanding  sentinels  as  to  the  polity,  counsels  and 
government  of  this  little  commonwealth,  one  learns  not  a 
few  lessons  of  practical  instruction.  Though  this  insect 
occupies  a  low  step  in  the  scale  of  animal  life,  its  neural 
centre  having  neither  convolution  nor  other  mark  of  intel- 
lectual ascent,  yet  one  soon  learned  that  what  brains  the 
ant  does  possess  are  well  used.  As  proof  of  this,  the  wise 
of  all  times  have  borrowed  instruction  from  the  ants,  and 
held  them  up  as  examples  worthy  of  imitation.  The 
Hebrew  sage  counsels  the  sluggard  to  go  and  learn  wisdom 
of  the  ant ;  but  the  sluggard  of  our  day,  who  has  learned 
something  of  natural  history,  says  that  nothing  can  please 
him  better  than  to  have  such  an  example  to  follow,  as  it 
has  been  observed  that  ants  do  not  commence  their  labors 
until  late  in  the  forenoon.  Perhaps  the  ant  of  Palestine 
was  an  earlier  riser,  as  it  is  not  probable  that  Solomon 
would  have  made  such  an  error. 

The  ant  can  also  boast  of  having  suggested  to  Virgil  one 
of  his  finest  lines,  and  to  La  Fontaine  one  of  his  most 
popular  fables.  In  this  fable  we  are  told  how  a  light- 
hearted  and  frivolous  grasshopper  spent  his  precious  sum- 


15 

mer  hours  in  song  and  merriment,  taking  no  lessons  from 
passing  time  or  current  events  ;  with  no  fear  of  a  comina 
hour  which  would  weigh  with  remorseless  balance  his 
uttermost  garnering;  nay,  more,  even  smiling,  when  allusion 
was  made  to  the  future.  Finally,  the  frosts  of  winter  came, 
and  found  his  storehouse  empty.  In  his  direful  necessity, 
the  profligate  repaired  to  the  castle  of  the  ants,  begging  for 
food,  but  received  as  answer,  that  as  he  had  sung  during 
summer,  so  now  he  might  during  winter. 

Besides  these  examples  of  wisdom  for  i)ractical  guides  in 
life,  chosen  from  the  many  which  have  been  furnished  by 
the  ant,  you  will  be  pleased  to  learn  that  chemistry  has 
received  no  trifling  aid  from  its  labors  ;  moreover,  that  this 
little  insect  has  been  an  indirect  co-worker  with  us  in  the 
healing  art,  viz:  it  has  furnished  man  with  a  delicately  com- 
pounded substance,  to-wit,  formic  acid,  which  needed  but 
the  addition  of  one  element  to  it  to  render  it  the  most 
perfect  of  pain-annulling  agents.  This  gift  of  the  ant  to 
man  was  unheeded,  and  remained  in  the  chemist's  labor- 
atory, a  useless  thing,  until  a  I'renchman,  by  accident, 
added  chlorine  to  it  and  gave  the  world  chloroform.  But 
man,  with  his  wonted  nature  to  ignore  favors  and  obliga- 
tions, as  if  to  blot  out  all  recognition  of  the  fa\or  which  has 
been  done  him  by  the  ant,  has  ciiangcd  the  nomenclature 
of  chloroform  froni  the  terchloride  of  form\le  to  the  tcr- 
chloride  of  methyle. 

Besides  what  we  have  learned  irom  these  insects,  allow  me 
to  repeat  the  apostrophe  which  one  of  their  sages  made  to 
me,  as  I  sat  musing  at  his  side:     '"To  ([note  the  language 


i6 

of  your  great  Heyne,  concerning  the  markings  of  the  sala- 
mander's tail,  tliere  is  more  wisdom  in  the  hieroglyphics 
chiselled  on  my  sides  than  in  the  combined  philosophy  of 
Spinoza,  Kant,  Schelling  and  Hegel ;  the  substance  of  the 
first,  the  subjectivity  of  the  second  and  third,  veiled  under 
the  mystic  forms  of  the  I  and  the  not  I,  and  the  reason  of 
Hegel,  are  mere  vapory  words;  and  though  the  meta- 
physical student  may  find  pleasure  in  them,  yet  these  are 
but  useless  words  and  intangible  fancies  ;  but  if  the  hiero- 
glyphics on  my  sides  be  truly  translated,  the  true  wisdom 
of  life  consists  in  useful  occupation,  whereby  prudent  pro- 
vision for  the  future  is  made,  avoiding  all  occupation  where 
shadow  is  mistaken  for  reality." 

The  formic  sage  retired,  and  left  me  to  reflect  on  the 
lesson  which  he  had  given  ;  and  to  none  is  the  lesson 
more  appropriate  than  to  you,  whose  hearts  are  full  of 
youth,  hope,  and  the  future ;  for,  when  the  frosts  of  winter 
have  come,  it  will  be  of  incalculable  import  to  each  of  you, 
whether  as  the  grasshopper  you  have  idly  sung  the  summer 
away,  or,  like  the  ant,  have  filled  your  storehouse  with 
stores. 

As  we  made  our  digression  to  the  ant-hill,  we  were  on 
the  eve  of  considering  the  sources  whence  is  derived  the 
building  material  of  the  pine-tree,  and  this  introduces  the 
lake,  on  whose  shores  these  meditative  ramblings  were 
made. 

As  one  stands  beside  Lake  Tahoe,  and  endeavors  to 
form,  in  its  diverse  features,  a  conception  which  may  be 
given  in  words,  these  features  are   so   numerous  that  one 


17 

knows  not  how  to  commence  the  portrayal  so  as  not  to 
distort  the  picture,  and  he  stands  in  that  wavering-  uncer- 
tainty with  which  Scott  has  described  one  of  Scotland's 
lakes : 

"  The  mountain  shadows  on  lior  breast 
Were  neither  Ijroken  nor  at  rest  ; 
In  brisj;lit  uncertainty  they  lie, 
Like  future  joys  to   Fancy's  eye.' 

At  the  foot  of  our  group  of  seven  pines,  with  one  shore 
lying  in  our  State  and  one  in  Nevada,  lay  this  emerald  gem 
in  a  framework  of  mountains,  whose  sides  were  covered 
with  pine  forests,  and  whose  crests,  here  and  there,  were 
crowned  with  snow;  emerald  gem  I  have  called  it,  yet  it 
rather  deserves  the  name  of  the  most  precious  of  stones  ; 
for,  as  Kepler  conceived  the  fixed  stars  to  twinkle  like 
diamonds,  because  of  their  revolution,  so  the  face  of  this 
lake,  borrowing  hue  from  sky,  sun  and  cloud,  [)resciits  a 
play  of  colors  not  excelled  by  a  moving  dia  iiond,  and  as 
such,  constitutes  the  brightest  jewel  in  the  diadem  ol  two 
sister  States;  and  securer  than  the  Koh-i-noor,  or  the  crown 
jewels  of  England,  it  will  glitter  there  forever,  since  no 
prince's  gold  nor  despoih'ng  concpieror  can  ever  wrest  it 
from  its  Sierra  casing. 

Besides  its  matchless  charm  of  coloring,  our  lake  is  e(|ually 
remarkable  for  the  purity  of  its  waters;  the  water  taken 
some  distance  from  the  shore  is  free  trom  all  achnixture  ot 
foreign  matter;  a  grand  crucil)le  in  XaLure's  hand,  where 
hydrogen  and  oxygen  exist  alone,  "unmixed  wiih  baser 
matter."  These  waters,  like  a  peerage  jealous  ol  a  \on'j; 
and  unalloyed  lineage,  are  recruited  onl\-  trom  ice  and  snow 


on  the  surrounding  mountains,  the  ice  and  snow  in  their 
turn  having  sprung  from  clouds  that  arose  from  the  lake; 
water,  cloud  and  snow  being  the  links  of  a  never-breaking 
chain;  for  existence,  whether  in  the  form  of  organic  or  in- 
organic phenomena,  moves  in  fixed  circles  or  orbits,  which, 
according  to  Goethe,  and  more  especially  as  elucidated  by 
the  master-mind  of  Moleschott,  are  governed  by  fixed  iron 
and  eternal  laws,  and  this  chain  of  recurrino-  action  oriein- 
ates  in  the  heat  of  the  sun,  or,  as  Helmholtz  would  have 
us  believe,  from  bodies  falling  on  the  sun ;  hence,  in  the  face 
of  the  lake,  with  its  many-colored  features,  along  with  the 
overshadowing  cloud,  and  the  snow  on  the  mountain,  we 
have  glimpses  of  that  conserved  force  which,  born  among 
the  stars,  disappeared  in  the  fields  of  space,  and,  Arethusa- 
like,  reappeared  in  these  forms. 

In  the  lake  we  have  a  true  picture  of  the  medical 
practitioner's  life  in  its  varied  experiences,  for,  as  it  at  times 
has  its  smooth  unruffled  face,  so  he  has  his  days  of  smooth, 
even  tenor,  in  which  not  a  ripple  occurs  to  vary  uniformity; 
while  these,  again,  are  succeeded  b}'  those  of  rude  and  dis- 
astrous misfortune,  in  which  failure  and  disaster  mock  eacli 
effort  of  the  professional  hand.  In  the  midst  of  such  shocks 
the  man  stands  stupefied  and  dejected,  half  ready  to  believe 
that  the  principles  of  his  art  are  valueless.  In  such  trials 
the  physician  may  receive  comfort  from  the  reflection  that  a 
certain  amount  of  error  is  inseparable  from  all  human  effort, 
and  that  to  reduce  such  failure  he  must  ever  be  ready  to 
meet  it  with  renewed  and  more  vigilant  toil,  for  the  storms 
on  the  lake  of  life  will  not  continue  always,  but,  perhaps. 


^9 

even  to  morrow,  its  frowning  waves  will  sink  to  repose. 
From  the  lake,  too,  examples  of  this  may  be  taken,  that 
amid  the  fiercest  tempests,  the  deep  water  underneath  re- 
mains unmoved;  and,  as  the  waves  of  Tahoe  are  broken  and 
brought  to  rest  by  their  fixed  Sierra  wall,  so  the  adverse 
billows  which  harass  human  life  fall  harmlessly  when  they 
strike  against  a  well-disciplined  mind. 

A  remarkable  quality  of  the  waters  of  this  lake  is  their 
nearly  uniform  temperature;  and  though  this  degree  in  the 
deeper  points  approaches  freezing,  yet,  except  at  the  margin 
near  the  shore,  it  never  freezes.  This  is  accounted  for  by 
the  absence  of  organic  or  other  matter;  hence  is  learned 
that  purity  of  character  gives  independence;  and,  though 
winter  is  so  near,  yet  these  waters,  secure  in  their  in- 
corruptible freedom,  mock  his  efforts  to  place  his  hands 
upon  them.  Hence  the  lesson  to  you  of  adorning  your 
professional  mantles  with  the  pearls  of  independence  and 
integrity;  adorned  with  such  qualities,  dishonor  will  vainl)' 
essay  to  grasp  you  in  its  wintry  hand. 

From  the  many-colored  waters  we  turn  our  eyes  to  the 
mountains,  which  are  a  framework  in  which  our  lak<-;  picture 
is  contained.  As  evening  approaches,  strange,  weird 
shadows  lie  on  their  rocky  summits;  distance,  sunlight, 
shadow,  resting  against  a  sky  of  peerless  purit)',  all  making 
a  picture  of  such  sublime  character  that  words,  let  them  be 
never  so  carefully  chosen  and  cunningly  mingled,  can  never 
reproduce  its  correct  tintings.  Colors,  not  words,  and  a 
master-hand  like  that  of  Bierstadt  and  Hill  only  can  repre- 
sent this  scenery. 


20 

To  increase,  if  possible,  the  strange  sublimity  of  the 
scene  as  the  sun  sank  behind  the  mountains  of  the  western 
shore  of  the  lake,  numerous  fires  were  seen  that  had  been 
lighted  by  the  native  Indians.  The  smoke  and  fiames  of 
these  fires,  gleaming  among  the  evergreen  forests,  re- 
sembled watch-fires  and  reminded  me  of  Uhland's  lines: 

"  When  the  tower-bell  tolls  once  below, 
And  the  watch-hres  on  high  do  glow, 
Then  Til  descend  the  ranks  among. 
Brandish  my  sword  and  sing  my  song. 
I  am  the  mountain  boy." 

When  the  sublime  impulses  awakened  by  the  view  of 
this  scenery  have  given  place  to  cooler  reflection,  or, 
rather,  when  ecstasy  has  given  place  to  analysis,  one  finds 
that  nature  here  has  indulged  in  forms  of  architecture  in 
which  Byzantine,  Gothic  and  Moorish  forms  appear;  nay, 
more,  as  the  uncertain  light  of  evening  renders  the  view  less 
distinct,  one  can  easily  conceive  that  he  sees  in  the  distance 
the  many-pinnacled  cathedral  of  Milano,  with  its  towers  and 
chiselled  statues;  but  this  Sierra  cathedral,  with  its  towers 
and  statues  chiselled  out  of  gneiss  and  granite,  escapes  the 
discolorinof  touch  which  time  has  left  on  that  at  IVIilano, 
since  draped  in  a  snowy  mantle,  the  former  remains  white 
forever. 

The  less  imacjinative  chemist  and  freoloo-ist  see  in  these 
rocky  masses  the  building  material  of  all  plant  and  animal 
life.  These  are  the  primitive  elements,  cast  up  by  volcanic 
force,  from  which  plant  and  beast  derived  their  solid  con- 
stituents. These  elements  in  Nature's  treasury  are  far 
more   valuable  than  gold  and  silver;   the  latter  are  mere 


21 

glittering  baubles  that  she  has  formed  to  amuse  her  infant, 
man;  while  the  former  constitute  the  coin,  current  at  her 
treasury.  In  the  book  of  organic  life,  Nature  traces  with  a 
pencil  composed  of  these  elements,  the  primordial  sketch  of 
every  living  thing.  Yet  as  these  mineral  principles  exist  in 
yonder  rocky  turrets,  they  are  locked  up  faster  than  ever 
miser's  chest  was  closed  against  burglar's  hand,  and  their 
security  is  still  increased,  since  even  in  their  fastnesses 
they  are  moulded  into  crystal  forms  of  adamantine  hard- 
ness. 

But  how  unlock  this  iron  safe,  so  securely  barred  against 
intruders?  The  keys  thereto  are  tempest,  wind,  and  ice,  and 
released  from  its  prison,  this  precious  dust  takes  shape  as 
bird,  animal,  forest  meadow,  leaf  and  flower.  Hence  the 
tiny  grass-blade,  the  group  of  pine-trees,  the  hillock  of  ants, 
and  all  this  landscape  of  beauteous  forms,  are  the  offspring 
of  yonder  mountain;  and  when  this  landscape,  with  all  its 
inhabitants — having  accomplished  its  destiny — has  vanish- 
ed from  existence,  then  Nature,  re-combining  the  scattered 
elements  and  adding  new  ones  from  her  mountain  store- 
house, will  produce  again  a  new  landscape  to  delight  the 
eyes  of  other  generations. 

In  our  visit  to  the  heart  of  the  Sierras,  we  have  seen 
some  of  the  architectural  wonders  reared  1)\-  the  hand  of 
Nature.  I  now  call  your  attention,  as  I  close,  to  another, 
reared  by  the  hand  of  Art — in  this  building.  To  render 
her  work  enduring,  and  to  erect  a  fabric  that  would  defy 
the  wasting  touch  of  years,  Art  has  borrowed  from  the 
Sierras,  blocks  of  ,t;ranite,  and  from  the  earth,  indestructible 


22 

building  material.  As  such,  it  now  stands  complete  in  all 
the  matchless  perfection  which  care  and  study  could  devise 
— a  monument  to  Elias  S.  Cooper,  the  prime  originator  and 
ardent  promoter  of  medical  education  on  the  Pacific  Coast. 

In  the  last  days  of  his  fatal  illness,  I  accompanied  Cooper 
to  the  heart  of  the  Sierras,  with  the  hope,  as  he  thought, 
that  the  breath  of  the  pines  and  the  mountain  view  might 
bring  some  relief  to  him;  when,  finally,  it  became  plain 
that  all  was  in  vain,  and  that  the  fatal  shaft  could  no  longer 
be  eluded,  he  spoke  calmly  of  his  impending  dissolution  ;  it 
was  manifest  that  premature  death  was  arresting  but  halt 
finished  much  that  he  had  purposed  to  do,  and,  at  various 
times,  during  his  illness,  the  destiny  of  the  school  which  he 
had  founded,  was  the  matter  of  intense  solicitude. 

As  Time,  on  a  recent  occasion,  realized  the  wishes  of  a 
French  patriot,  who,  dying  before  the  establishment  of  the 
Republic,  for  which  he  had  toiled  and  suffered  so  much, 
bade  his  old  servant  come  and  proclaim  it  over  his  grave, 
whenever  that  event  should  occur,  so  this  audience,  here 
seated,  twenty  years  after  Cooper's  death,  in  sight  of  his 
last  resting-place  in  Lone  Mountain,  in  doing  intellectual 
homage  to  his  memory,  announces  that  his  work  still  lives. 
The  granite  tablet  over  the  portals  of  this  building,  lasting 
as  that  of  the  Pantheon,  whereon  the  memory  of  Bichat  is 
emblazoned,  announces  the  same  truth  ;  and  the  trained 
hands  and  cultured  minds,  who  annually  shall  depart  from 
this  temple  of  learning,  bearing  scrolls  on  which  his  name 
is  inscribed,  will  widely  proclaim  the  same,  and  bear 
evidence  that  his  work  was  not  in  vain,  but  that 

"  He  builded  better  than  he  knew." 


Could  he  have  foreseen  this,  as  mortality  was  laying  its 
cold  fingers  on  his  heart,  it  would  have  caused  it  to  beat 
for  a  moment  again  with  freshened  life,  and  would  have 
thrown  a  beam  of  pure  light  athwart  the  gloomy  shadow 
that  coming  death  was  projecting  over  him. 


24 


EDWARD  R.  TAYLOR'S  ADDRESS, 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen: 

The  occasion  of  our  assembling  is  most  auspicious 
and  interesting.  Not  alone  are  we  here  for  the  purpose  of 
bidding  God-speed  to  those  who  have  just  been  honored 
with  the  Doctorate  of  Medicine,  but  we  are  here  as  well  for 
the  purpose  of  dedicating  this  edifice  to  the  sacred  cause  in 
which  these  graduates  are  now  enlisted.  And  how  appro- 
priate, how  beautiful  this  structure  !  Solid,  yet  not  heavy  ; 
simple,  yet  not  plain  ;  costly,  yet  not  pretentious.  Being 
the  work  of  a  sincere  heart,  it  is  itself  sincere.  It  tells  no 
lie.  It  is  exactly  what  it  pretends  to  be.  Its  brick  are  not 
of  the  common  sort,  covered  with  plaster,  and  made  to 
stand  for  what  they  are  not — a  wretched  counterfeit  ;  but 
they  are  of  the  finer  sort  that  can  afford  to  look  into  the  eye 
of  the  world  with  the  serene  gaze  of  truth.  Here  we  have 
no  tawdry,  meaningless  ornamentation  ;  no  disjointed 
effects  ;  no  inharmonious  relations  ;  no  ill-adaptation  to 
purpose  ;  but  we,  happily,  as  is  rarely  the  case,  have  the 
reverse  of  all  these.  This  edifice,  the  construction  of  which 
has  excited  so  much  public  interest  and  curiosity,  is,  in  truth, 
as  a  piece  of  architecture,  a  credit  to  the  city — a  thing  o  f 
beauty  and  a  joy  forever,  as  every  work  of  true  art  always 
is.      Here,    indeed,    will    Science  find  a  fit   abiding-place  ; 


25 

here,  indeed,  may  she,  surrounded  with  all  things  needful, 
delightedly  work  out  ameliorations  for  suffering  mankind. 

This  building  is  not  the  result  of  a  sudden  impulse.  It 
has  been  the  dream  of  a  life-time  ;  an  object  to  be  attained, 
if  attainment  were  humanly  possible.  There  is  nothing  in 
connection  with  it  that  has  not  received  the  most  thought- 
ful, the  most  affectionate  consideration.  There  is  no  stone 
here  that  is  not  cemented  to  its  fellow  with  the  love  of 
humanity  and  of  science ;  and  so  cemented,  may  we  not 
justly  hope  that  this  fabric  will  endure  so  long  as  man  shall 
feel  for  man. 

He  who  has  wroucrht  this  w^ork,  has  loner  lived  amonof  us. 
No  name  in  this  part  of  the  world  is  more  closely  inter- 
woven with  medicine  and  whh  medical  teaching  than  his. 
He  has  pursued  his  favorite  studies  with  a  persistence  and 
self-abnegation  which  only  those  can  apjjreciate  who  have 
had  the  honor  of  his  intimate  acquaintance.  lUit  nothing- 
has  been  permitted  by  him  to  stand  in  the  way  of  his  duties 
as  a  teacher.  In  truth,  these  duties  have  ever  been  hrst  in 
his  thoughts,  and  it  was  solely  at  their  call,  that  he  caused 
the  barren  sand-hill  of  a  twelve-month  ago  to  bear  the 
architectural  flower  w^hose  blossoming  we  now  celebrate. 
From  the  ver)-  beginning  of  his  connectic^n  with  medical 
teaching,  now  many  years  ago,  such  a  structure  as  this,  with 
fullest  equipment,  became  one  of  the  great  aims  of  his  life. 
That  aim  he  has  pursued  steadil)-  and  unswervingh-  to  its 
final  achievement.  That  he  has  liv('d  to  see  this  da\-,  is  to 
him  the  supreme  blessing.  b'roui  the  resources  wliicli  Iiave 
resulted    from    his    i)rofessional    labors,  these    stones   ha\e 


26 

risen  ;  and  they,  together  with  the  ground  on  whicli  they 
stand,  have  been  conveyed,  as  an  unreserved  donation,  to  a 
corporation  but  recently  organized — the  Cooper  Medical 
College — organized  without  capital  stock,  and  with  no  view 
to  pecuniary  profit,  and  for  the  sole  purpose  of  making  the 
gift  effective.  This  munificent  donation  is  burdened  with  no 
condition  whatever,  except  the  single  one  that  the  property 
shall  be  solely  devoted  to  the  purpose  of  medical  instruction. 
Should  it  ever  be  diverted  by  the  corporation  into  any  other 
channel,  then  the  City  and  County  of  San  Francisco  are  to 
take  possession  of  it  for  public  purposes.  On  behalf  of 
Cooper  Medical  College,  I  am  here  to  say  that  the  corpora- 
tion accepts  this  noble  gift,  and  in  its  own  name,  and  in  the 
name  of  Medicine,  to  thank  the  donor  for  this,  the  culminating 
deed  of  a  great  career — a  deed  which  is  itself  so  eloquent 
that  commendatory  words  seem  lifeless  in  comparison.  The 
money  value  of  the  donation  is  indeed  great — for  it  bears 
the  singular  distinction  of  being  the  costliest  gift  of  the  kind 
ever  made  to  medicine  in  the  United  States — but  why  speak 
of  dollars  and  cents;  for  as  compared  with  the  spirit  which 
prompted  the  offering,  and  which  now  vitalizes  it,  millions 
are  as  dross. 

The  name — ''Cooper  Medical  College" — is  significant 
and  highly  felicitous.  It  tells  a  story  worth  hearing  and 
worth  remembering.  Elias  Samuel  Cooper  was  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  men  among  the  many  remarkable  men 
that  illuminated  the  early  life  of  California.  He  was  born 
with  an  ingrained  love  for  the  things  of  medicine,  and  early 
took  to  the  scientific  study  of  the  human  body,  with  a  zeal 


27 

that  knew  no  abatement  till  death  cut  prematureh-  short 
his  brilliant  career.  Almost  from  the  hour  of  his  grradua- 
tion  he  began  to  give  private  lessons  in  anatomy  ;  and  from 
that  time  up  to  the  hour  of  his  fatal  illness,  he  continued  a 
teacher.  Like  thousands  before  him,  his  labors  in  the 
interest  of  his  fellow-man  were  unappreciated,  and  against 
him  was  raised  the  hand  of  ignorant  persecution.  But  he 
'•still  toiled  on,  hoped  on,"  content  if  he  could  but  gain  the 
approval  of  his  own  conscience,  and  extend  the  domain  of 
his  medical  knowledge.  In  the  midst  of  his  labors,  the  star 
of  California,  then  blazing  in  the  far  west,  caught  his  eye  ; 
it  seemed  to  call  him  ;  he  obeyed  the  call  ;  and  here  he 
landed  in  the  early  spring  of  1855.  He  had  scarcely  set 
foot  upon  the  soil  before  he  recommenced  his  professional 
labors  with  increased  ardor,  for  here  he  found  the  climate 
particularly  well  adapted  to  successful  dissection  and  the 
operations  of  surgery.  It  followed,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
that  he  should  soon  become  widely  known,  by  reason  of 
his  ofreat  knowledge  and  skill  as  an  operatinof  surcfeon. 
Being  a  man  of  great  force  of  character,  and  endowed  with 
exceptionally  strong  faculties  for  organization,  he  became 
the  leading  spirit  in  the  formati(Mi  of  tlie  State  Medical 
Society,  which,  after  some  years  of  vigorous  life,  fell,  only  to 
rise  again  to  renewed  usefulness.  These  natural  ai)iliiics. 
coupled  with  an  energy  that  knew  no  relaxation,  and  a 
genialit)'  of  temperament  that  drew  his  friends  to  him  as 
with  ''hooks  of  steel,"  enabled  him  to  draw  around  himself 
an  able  band  of  teachers,  who,  catching  the  spirit  ol  their 
leader,  at  once  embraced  their  labors  with   the  utmost  en- 


28         ' 

thusiasm.  And  thus,  in  this  unpretentious  but  earnest 
wa)-,  was  organized  the  first  Medical  College  ever  organized 
west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  What  these  men  lacked  in 
equipment,  they  made  up  in  zeal  and  knowledge,  and  in  that 
close  contact  with  the  student,  which  is  impossible  in  large 
institutions.  The  classes  were  small,  as,  under  the  circum- 
stances, they  could  not  but  be ;  but  the  teaching  was 
thorough  and  conscientious,  and  tlie  students  singularly 
earnest  and  hicrh-minded.  Some  of  them  are  now  among- 
the  most  reputable  practitioners  of  medicine  in  this  city,  and 
one  of  them  has  long  been  an  active  constituent  of  the 
present  Faculty — an  honored  son  of  an  honored  father. 
These  pioneer  teachers  worked  faithfully  and  well.  Tliey 
''scorned  delights,  and  lived  laborious  days."  They  did  good 
work — the  one  imperative  thing  for  man  to  do  in  this 
world — did  it  not  in  the  open  blaze  of  day,  but  in  quiet  se- 
clusion, and  with  no  hope  of  pecuniary  reward  for  the  time 
and  labor  spent.  Not  for  them  the  greed  of  gain,  or  the 
hand-clapping  of  the  multitude,  but  simply  the  luxur}^  of 
quiet  hard  work  in  the  way  of  self-appointed  duty.  The 
world  knows  nothing  of  such  labors ;  scarcely  ever  hears  of 
the  men  who  perform  them;  but  what  treasure  the  laborers 
lay  up! — treasure  "more  to  be  desired  than  gold,  yea,  than 
much  fine  gold ;  sweeter,  also,  than  honey  and  the  honey- 
comb." The  majority  of  them  have  passed  away  to  '•  the 
silent  halls  of  death,"  leaving  memories  we  love  to  linger 
over,  and  names  which  are  a  precious  heritage.  But  some 
of  them,  happily,  have  been  spared  to  meet  with  us  on  this 
memorable   evenino-,  and,  as   we   crreet   them,  our  welcome 


29 

swells  to  rejoicing,  seeing  them,  as  we  do,  still  earnestly 
cultivating  the  vineyard  which  has  known  their  labors  for 
so  many  years. 

There  seemed  to  be  something  inherently  vital  in  this 
pioneer  school.  There  was,  it  is  true,  the  break  of  a  few 
years  following  Dr.  Cooper's  death  ;  but,  with  that  excep- 
tion, it  has  pursued  an  unbroken  course,  until  to-day  we 
see  it  taking  possession  of  this  valuable  property,  and 
entering  upon  a  new  career  resplendent  with  promise.  The 
early  days  of  the  school  were  days  of  hard  struggle  ;  but 
to  the  intense  nature  of  Cooper,  difficulties  were  but 
incentives  ; 

"Anil  as  .Miieas     *     '*     *     *     *     * 
Did   from   llie  tlamos  of  'I'roy  upon   his  ^lioulder 
'I'lic  ol<l  Anchiscs  l)far,"' 

So  did  Cooper,  upon  his  strong  shoulders^  bear  this  infant 
school  through  every  peril  that  threatened  its  life.  But 
with  his  death,  disintegrating  influences  set  in,  and  ere  long 
its  voice  was  heard  no  more.  Por  a  few  years  onl)-  this 
silence  continued.  Tlic  school  was  not  dead ;  it  did  but 
sleep.  It  lay  with  all  its  potentiality  still  within  it,  and 
awaited,  like  the  spell-bound  beauty,  but  the  touch  of  the 
pro[)er  hand,  to  spring  once  more  into  the  whirling  circle 
of  i)usy  Life.  That  touch  came  from  the  hand  of  two  of 
those  w^ho  had  been  with  it  from  its  l^irth  ;  and  at  the 
touch,  it  arose  from  its  slumber,  and.  like  a  giant  refreshed 
by  sleep,  it  entered  with  new  vigor  uj)on  a  course  which  it 
promises  to  hold  as  long  as  this  cit)-  shall  exist. 

Mow  fitting,  then,  that  this  College  should  bear  the 
honored  name  of  Cooter  !      It  is,  in   truth,  his  monument. 


30 

and  a  monument  he  well  deserves — deserves,  not  alone  for 
the  peculiar  reasons  already  indicated,  but  deserves,  as  well, 
because  of  his  great  anatomical  and  surgical  attainments, 
and  because  of  his  unfaltering  devotion  to  the  cause  of 
medicine.  He  was,  undoubtedly,  an  original  man ;  his 
nature  was  essentially  creative.  He  naturally  disdained 
the  beaten  paths  that  mediocrity  can,  with  moderate  indus- 
try, tread  with  ease,  and,  plunging  into  the  forest,  he  opened 
up  new  paths.  It  was  his  to  lead,  not  to  follow.  Many  of  his 
operations  were  so  bold  as  to  startle  even  those  accustomed 
to  audacious  surgery  ;  and  yet  they  were  tempered  with  a 
prudence,  and  were  carried  to  such  favorable  results,  as  to 
prove  him  a  master  of  the  first  order.  His  knowledge  of 
coarse  anatomy  seemed  absolutely  perfect,  and  he  kept  it 
so  —  as  it  can  only  be  kept  —  by  constant  dissection. 
Nothing  was  left  to  chance  in  an  operation.  He  saw  his 
way  clearly  from  beginning  to  finish,  and  never  made  the 
slightest  incision  without  knowing  what  was  under  the  point 
of  his  knife.  He  was  never  carried  away  by  over-confidence, 
nor  daunted  by  unforeseen  difficulties.  To  him  the  human 
body  was  an  infinitude,  which  could  not  be  exhausted  ;  and 
to  the  study  of  it  he  devoted  himself  utterly,  thoroughly. 
It  was,  in  sober  truth,  the  altar  of  his  self-immolation  ;  for 
his  labors  were  incessant.  They  felt  no  pause.  He  scarcely 
knew  what  it  was  to  sleep  as  the  ordinary  man  sleeps.  The 
fires  of  his  brain  were  constantly  burning.  No  wonder 
that  an  intensity  such  as  this  did  not  last — wonder  is  it  that 
it  lasted  so  long.  And  so  it  was,  that  in  the  midst  of  his 
labors,  while  yet  dreaming  of  a  thousand  things  that  remained 


to  be  done,  in  October,  1862,  and  in  the  thirty-ninth  jear 
of  his  age,  Death  closed  the  book  of  his  life. 

He  fell,  as  falls  the  hero,  in  the  front  rank,  with  blade  in 
hand,  and  battling  to  the  last  gasp.  And  yet,  he  resigned 
his  life  without  regret  or  complaint,  speaking  to  his  latest 
breath  of  triumphs  yet  -to  come,  as  glorious  visions  of  the 
life  beyond  flitted  before  his  fading  sight.  Thus  died  this 
gifted  man,  not  rich  in  gold,  except  in  gold  of  priceless 
deeds. 

So  also  fell,  at  the  earl}'  age  of  thirty-one,  and  from  like 
causes,  the  great  Bichat — the  glory,  in  the  last  century-,  of 
French  medicine,  and  one  of  the  glories  of  the  human  race. 
These  intense  natures  soon  burn  out,  it  is  true;  but  what 
splendor  of  light  they  emit  while  living,  and  what  radiant 
glories  spring  above  their  graves  ! 

Though  Cooper  lived  in  California  less  than  eight  years, 
it  is  doubtful  if  an)-  man  here  has  influenced  the  course  of 
medicine  to  anything  hke  the  same  extent  as  he.  And  in 
this  new  College,  the  successor  of  that  which  he  founded, 
and  which  will  ever  bear  his  name,  the  name  of  Cooper  will 
not  only  be  a  potent  influence,  but  a  watchword  to  lead  to 
high  endeavor,  to  quenchless  zeal,  to  tireless  labor.  Here, 
the  torch  that  fell  from  Cooper's  lifeless  hand,  will  burn 
with  increased  splendor,  and  cast  its  illumination  far  be}ond 
these  walls.  For  it  is  as  certain  as  anything  iiuman  can  be, 
that  this  institution  is  destined  to  a  great  future.  If  with 
all  its  previous  difficulties,  with  insufficient  accommodations 
and  facilities,  this  school  has  grown  to  its  present  great  de- 
velopment, what  summit   of  excellence   may   it   not  reach, 


with  equipment  such  as,  in  a  few  }ears,  the  best  Eastern 
colleges  cannot  hope  to  surpass,  and  with  a  faculty,  such  as 
it  is  sure  to  command,  able,  zealous  and  harmonious? 

Medical  instruction  in  San  Francisco  not  only  stands 
upon  a  firm  basis,  but  it  is,  and  will  be,  equal  to  every  de- 
mand made  upon  it.  The  college,  founded  by  the  gener- 
osity of  the  late  Dr.  Toland,  is  now  affiliated  with  the 
State  University,  and  between  the  faculty  of  that  school  and 
of  this,  the  most  cordial  relations  exist.  There  is  ample 
room  and  verge  enough  for  two  such  institutions  in  San 
Francisco,  and  their  only  rivalry  in  the  future  promises  to 
be  as  to  who  shall  do  the  Qrfeatest  oood  in  a  common 
cause. 

Looking  at  this  edifice,  then,  in  the  light  of  what  has  led 
up  to  it,  how  more  than  grand  do  its  proportions  seem  ! 
What  a  story  it  tells  :  A  story  of  pure  ambition,  of  self-sacri- 
fice, of  unfaltering  devotion  to  a  single  aim  !  Looked  at 
with  the  eye  of  sympathy,  it  becomes  imbued  with  sentient 
being,  and  its  beautiful  turrets  seem  like  human  arms 
upraised  in  thanksgiving.  It  is  not,  no,  it  cannot  be,  so 
much  stone  and  mortar  cunningly  designed  and  put  together 
by  the  hand  of  the  architect  and  builder.  Even  were  it 
that,  and  nothing  nmre;  even  had  it  been  created  in  the 
grossest  spirit  of  mercenary  gain,  still  it  would  greatly 
please  the  eye,  for  it  is  indeed  most  excellent  work.  But  it 
goes  beyond  the  eye;  it  penetrates  to  the  soul,  and  de- 
livers a  message  there,  that  awakens  the  whole  beino-  and 
attunes  it  to  music.  In  the  presence  of  such  as  this,  we 
stand  wath  uncovered  head,  while    Passion's  rai^eful  voice  is 


stilled,  and  Heaven's  own  peace  fills  all  the  air.  In  such  a 
presence,  the  selfish,  heartless  struggle  of  man  with  man  for 
worldly  precedence  ;  the  accumulation  of  wealth  for  the 
mere  sake  of  accumulation ;  the  mad  ambition  for  place  and 
power,  seem  like  the  bitterest  of  mockeries,  the  vainest  of  de- 
lusions. In  such  a  presence,  what  pessimist  asks  the 
question:  '"Is  life  worth  living?"' — what  heart  so  hard  as 
not  to  be  touched  until  the  waters  of  its  better  nature  gush 
forth?  In  such  a  presence,  do  we  not  feel  that  self-abnega- 
tion— the  doing  for  others  in  preference  to  the  doing  for 
oneself — is  the  one  thing  on  this  earth  which  overtops  all 
other  things?  Ah,  )es  !  it  comes  to  us  again  and  again, 
that  it  is  worth  all  the  rest;  yea,  a  million  times  all  the  rest. 
For  is  it  not  the  only  real  thing  we  possess — the  one  thing 
which  gives  the  only  pure,  the  only  unallo)ed  satisfaction 
we  can  have  ?  Do  not  all  selfish  pleasures  cloy  ?  Is  there 
one  in  the  whole  list  that  does  not  ?  Is  there  a  more  un- 
happy creature  on  the  face  of  the  earth  than  the  aimless 
dawdler,  with  wealth  enough  to  satisfy  every  appetite, 
and  whose  sole  thought  is  to  meet  each  whim  that  in 
turn  arises  before  him  ?  Or  who  more  pitiable  and  to  be 
piti(;d  than  the  one  whose  home  is  his  bank  vault,  whose 
literature  is  his  ledger,  and  whose  dail\-  circuit  is  round  the 
rim  ot  a  dollar;  ''  whose  heart  is  dry  as  summer's  dust," 
and    whose  unceasing  cry  is  gold !   gold  !    more  gold ! 

"  to  llif  si'iy  V(.-r,L;c  yti  llic  cliiii('li):u<l  niuuM." 

Comparetl   with  such,  a  jjersecuted   Spinoza,  feeding   on 
crusts    in   his   fu'eless  garret,  while  devoting  himself  to  the 


34 

spiritual  betterment  of  his  kind,  is  a  God  seated  on  high 
Olympus,  and  living  on  nectar  and  ambrosia. 

Take  any  one  with  a  passion  for  accumulation,  whether  it 
be  of  money,  or  of  rare  books,  or  of  pictures,  or  of  pottery, 
or  of  coins,  or  of  stamps,  does  he  ever  have  enough  ?  The 
more  he  gets,  the  more  he  wants,  and  the  more  he  wants, 
the  more  he  becomes  dissatisfied.  As  Carlyle  puts  it  in 
his  rugged,  forcible  way: 

"  Will  the  whole  Finance  Ministers  and  Upholsterers  and 
Confectioners  of  modern  iiurope  undertake,  in  joint  stock 
company,  to  make  one  shoeblack  happy  ?  They  cannot 
accomplish  it  above  an  hour  or  two  ;  for  the  shoeblack  has 
a  soul  quite  other  than  his  stomach,  and  would  require,  if 
you  consider  it,  for  his  permanent  satisfaction  and  saturation, 
simply  this  allotment,  no  more,  and  no  less:  God's  in- 
finite universe  altogetJier  to  himself,  tJierciii  to  efijoy  in- 
finitely^ and  fill  every  wish  as  it  rose.  Oceans  of  Hoch- 
heimer;  a  throat  like  that  of  Ophiucus;  speak  not  of  them; 
to  the  infinite  shoeblack  they  are  as  nothing.  No  sooner 
is  your  ocean  filled,  than  he  grumbles  that  it  might  have 
been  of  better  vintage." 

Paradoxical  as  it  may  seem.  }et  it  is  nevertheless  true, 
that  the  more  one  does  for  others,  the  more  one  does  for 
oneself.  The  more  numerous  the  points  at  which  man 
comes  in  sympathetic  contact  with  his  fellow-man,  the 
broader  and  deeper  his  life.  The  most  contracted  boundary 
conceivable  is  that  of  Self ;  the  most  extended,  the  altru- 
ism of  Jesus  and  Gautama — impossible  of  realization,  doubt- 
less, but  the  noblest   ideal  ever  held  up  before  man  ;    the 


striving  toward  which  is  the  one  only  means  whereby  we 
can  be  saved  from  the  world,  the  flesh  and  the  devil.  F'ar 
more  than  a  half  truth  lies  in  these  words,  sung  b)-  the 
modern  poet  of  Boodhism: 

"  Hoi  ye  wlio  suffer  I      Know 

\'e  suffer  from  yourselves — none  else  compels; 

None  other  holds  you  that  ye  live  and  die, 
And  whirl  upon  the  wheel,   and  hug  and   kiss 

Its  spokes  of  agony. 
Its  tire  of  tears,   its  nave  of  nothingness."' 

That  the  desire  for  accumulation  is  natural,  and  w^hen 
stimulated  not  for  itself  alone  is  worthy,  and  that  to  this 
desire  we  owe  much  of  our  progress  and  civilization  no  one 
will  dispute  ;  but  that  our  present  civilization  is  not  deserv- 
ing all  the  encomiums  sometimes  lavished  upon  it,  there  will 
likewise  be  little  dispute.  It  is  not  a  7'eal  thing — and  by  a 
real  thincr  is  meant  a  thino-  which  bears  the  elements  ot 
permanent  satisfaction;  which  holds  within  the  heart  of  it 
no  false  pretenses;  a  sincere  thing — neither  sham  nor  coun- 
terfeit. Are  the  great  masses  of  the  people  satisfied  with 
this  civilization?  Is  anybody  entirely  satisfied  with  it? 
Does  any  thoughtful  person  believe  it  will  last  unless  it  be 
subjected  to  the  most  heroic  surgery  ?  It  is  dominated  by 
Self  in  the  grossest  form  in  wliich  Self  can  be  asserted — in 
laws  made  for  the  Vq.\\\  and  by  the  Few,  at  the  expense  of  the 
Many,  It  is  stained  through  and  through  w^ith  injustice. 
It  is  begituiing  to  present  those  tremendous  contrasts  which 
have  been  the  precursor  of  the  death  of  so  many  jjrevious 
civilizations: — palaces,  luxury,  and  ever-increasing  wealth 
at  one  end  of  the  scale;  and  at  the  other  end  of  it  squalor, 


36 

slums,  want,  and  ever-deepening  poverty.  It  is  a  fearful 
fact  to  contemplate,  that  in  the  city  of  New  York  there  are 
men  who  have  added  to  their  wealth  as  much  as  a  million 
of  dollars  in  a  single  day,  while  in  the  self-same  city  there 
are  hundreds  and  hundreds  who,  hour  after  hour,  hang  upon 
the  very  verge  of  starvation. 

How  true  are  the  words  of  Goethe,  that  "It  is  only  with 
Renunciation,  that  Life,  properly  speaking,  can  be  said  to 
begin.' '  When  a  man  steps  out  of  himself,  forgets  himself 
for  some  one  else  ;  denies  himself  a  comfort  that  some  one 
in  more  need  than  he  shall  be  benefitted,  then  he  does  the 
one  great  thing  ;  then  his  heart  runs  over  with  silent  joy  ; 
then  he  receives  a  pleasure  such  as  nothing  else  under 
heaven  can  give  him.  This  is  the  re-^/  thing;  the  rational 
pleasure ;  the  pleasure  that  never  cloys  ;  and  the  pleasure 
that  each  of  us  can  in  a  measure  enjoy,  if  he  will.  To  be 
sure,  we  cannot  all  build  Medical  Colleges  out  of  the 
earnings  of  our  labor,  as  gifts  to  suffering  humanity  ;  nor 
need  we 

"     *  *  *  *         Wander  lone, 

Crownless  and  homeless  thai  the  world  be  helped;'' 

but  the  demon  of  selfishness,  that  lies  in  the  heart  of  us  all, 
can  at  least  be  scotched  if  it  cannot  quite  be  killed.  If,  out 
of  our  superabundance,  and  without  any  self-denial  what- 
ever, we  give  a  penny  to  a  homeless  outcast  in  the  street, 
for  the  moment  we  are  exalted,  for  the  moment  we  feel  the 
breath  of  Heaven ;  but  when,  in  the  interest  of  humanity, 
we  put  Self  under  foot — Ah  !  then  we  walk  the  empyrean 
heights,  and  gather  flowers  that  can  never  fade. 


I  once  heard  a  true  story  which  is  worth  repeating:  An 
old  fellow,  without  wife  or  child  to  bless  him,  who  had, 
as  every  wealthy  person  has,  a  number  of  poor  relations, 
but  never  thought  of  any  of  them,  from  one  year's  end  to 
another,  had  shut  himself  up  so  within  himself  that  his 
whole  world  became  bounded  by  his  own  being,  and  his 
never-satisfied  desires.  One  day,  while  sitting  in  his 
library,  thoroughly  miserable  from  self-tormenting  thought, 
— the  very  books  appearing  to  glower  at  him — a  strange 
light,  as  from  an  angel  presence,  seemed  to  flash  suddenly 
upon  him.  It  illuminated  his  soul  as  it  had  never  before 
been  illuminated.  He  went  to  his  desk,  took  from  it  his 
check-book,  and,  with  a  feeling  he  had  never  till  then  ex- 
perienced, he  drew  checks  for  large  amounts  to  the  order 
of  various  of  his  needy  relatives,  and  one  of  larger  amount 
than  all  the  rest,  he  filled  in  for  a  meritorious  institution  that 
long  had  in  vain  solicited  him  for  aid.  After  the  checks 
were  signed  and  enclosed  in  their  respective  envelopes,  he 
drew  a  lono-  breath  of  orreat  relief,  and  turninor  on  himself, 
said: 

"  You  old  rascal !  you  dare  to  grow  so  selfish  again,  and 
I  will  give  away  your  whole  fortune  !  " 

What  is  the  essential  difference  between  Byron  and 
Burns,  who,  as  poets,  have  so  many  points  in  common  ? 
Simply  this,  that  the  latter  loses  sight  of  himself,  tlie  for- 
mer, never.  The  one  had  a  genuine  afiection  for  every 
created  thing — his  heart  was  a  welling  spring  of  sympathy 
and  love;  the  other  spent  his  great  powers  in  depicting  his 
own  miseries,  and  seemed  to  have  no  genuine  love  for  any- 


38 

thing  outside  of  himself.  And  so  it  is,  that  the  universal 
world  clasps  Burns  to  its  bosom,  while  it  does  but  stand  off 
at  a  distance,  and  coldly  admire  Byron. 

Can  we  ever  repeat  Leigh  Hunt's  famous  lines  too  often  ? 

"  Abou  Ben  Adheni  (may  his  tribe  increase!) 
Awoke  one  night  from  a  deep  dream  of  peace, 
And  saw  within  the  moonlight  in  his  room, 
Making  it  rich  and  like  a  lily  in  bloom, 
An  angel  writing  in  a  book  of  gold. 
Exceeding  peace  had  made  Ben  Adhem  bold. 
And  to  the  Presence  in  the  room  he  said  : 
'What  writest  thou?'     The   \ision  raised   its  head. 
And,  with  a  look  made  of  all  sweet  accord, 
Answered,    'The  names  of  those  who  love  the  Lord.' 
'And  is  mine  one?'  said  Abou.     'Nay,  not  so,' 
Replied  the  Angel.     Abou  spoke  more  low. 
But  cheerly  still,   and  said,    '  I   pray  thee,   then, 
Write  me  as  one  who  loves  his  fellow-men.' 
The  Angel  wrote  and  vanished.     The  next  night 
It  came  agaia  with  a  great   wakening  light, 
And  showed  the  names  whom  love  of  God  had  blessed, 
And,  lo  I    Ben  Adheni 's  name  led  all  the  rest." 

True  to  the  associations  that  cluster  around  these  college 
halls,  we  may  be  assured  that  no  false  doctrines  will  here 
be  taught.  There  is  but  one  practice  of  medicine,  and  the 
"  old  school,' '  so-called,  is  its  prophet — there  can  be,  in  the 
nature  of  things,  none  other.  The  public  have  been  falsely 
educated  to  believe  that  there  is  an  old-school  of  med- 
icine as  contra-distinguished  from  the  new-school,  and  that 
the  former,  like  the  latter,  is  a  system.  But  the  difference 
between  the  two  is  immeasurable,  and  lies  in  this  :  The  le- 
gitimate and  only  practice  of  medicine  consists  in  doing 
anything  and  everything  morally  and  scientifically  right 
which  the  physician  may  deem  to  be  of  benefit  to  his 
patient.     So  long  as  he  knows  what  he  is  doing,  so  long  as 


39 

he  can  intelligently  see  his  wa\-,  so  long  he  is  at  liberty  to 
use  any  element  of  earth,  air  or  water,  and  any  and  all  ap- 
pliances whatever,  and  in  any  manner,  quantity  or  form, 
that  he  can  reasonably  believe  will  meet  the  condition  of 
the  patient  and  conduce  to  his  recovery.  On  the  contrary, 
the  new  school  (what  the  term  may  mean  is  hard  to  tell,  for 
it  embraces  all  modern  respectable  quackery)  is  bound 
within  the  rigid  rules  of  certain  systems,  outside  of  which 
the  practitioner  is  not  permitted  to  range.  If  he  be  a  home- 
opathist,  he  is  honestly  compelled  to  the  observance  of  the 
rule  of  similia  similibus  ciirantur.  That  is,  he  must  in 
every  case  administer  that  drug  which  will,  in  the  well  per- 
son, produce  the  same  apparent  symptoms  observable  in 
the  sick  ;  no  other  drug  is  admissible;  and,  furthermore,  the 
medicine  must  be  exhibited  in  certain  prescribed  dilutions 
or  triturations.  If  the  practitioner  be  an  Eclectic  or 
Thompsonian,  he  is  confined  to  the  vegetable  world  for  his 
remedies;  and  if  a  Hydropathist,  he  is  indissolubly  wedded 
to  cold  water.  And  so  on,  through  the  whole  list  down  to 
the  chap  who  cures  every  conceivable  ailment  by  the  simple 
laying  on  of  hands.  The  members  of  each  of  these  classes 
are  specialists  as  to  remed)-;  they  are  hedged  round,  and 
bound  in,  by  their  respective  systems,  and  if  the  case  of  the 
patient  cannot  be  brought  within  the  enclosure  of  the  sys- 
tem, so  much  the  worse  for  the  patient.  At  all  events  the 
sufferer  will  have  the  satisfaction  of  having  been  done  to 
death  according  to  rule,  and  can  take  consolation  from  what 
was  solemnly  remarked,   on  a  memorable   occasion,   that  it 


40 

would  never  do  to  violate  the  eternal  laws  that  govern  sucli 
tilings,  for  the  mere  matter  of  saving  human  life. 

If  it  be  said  that,  practically,  these  followers  of  systems 
do  not  keep  within  their  lines,  and  that,  as  occasion  prompts, 
they  go  outside  of  them,  then  it  is  plain  they  are  insincere; 
then  it  is  plain  they  pretend  to  be  one  thing,  and  are,  in 
reality,  another  thing;  then  it  is  plain  they  are  not  fit  to 
practice  medicine  under  any  circunistances  whatever;  then 
it  is  plain  they  are  pretenders,  pure  and  simple. 

But  again,  these  systems  have  no  scientific  basis  what- 
ever; they  are  built  on  the  sand.  Nor  have  their  promoters 
ever  contributed  to  mankind  anything  of  scientific  value; 
while  on  the  contrary,  legitimate  medicine  is  founded  on  the 
very  rock  of  science,  and  her  followers  have,  in  every  age, 
been  such  great  discoverers,  that  the  history  of  medicine 
and  of  medical  men  would  well  nigh  constitute  a  complete 
history  of  science. 

Thus  it  is  manifest  that  that  practice  which  is  founded  on 
scientific  principles,  and  which .  looks  only  at  the  relief  of 
the  sick  by  any  honest  means  attainable,  is  the  one  and 
only  legitimate  practice  of  medicine.  And  it  is  furthermore 
plain,  that  all  strictures  against  the  regular  practitioner,  for 
refusing  to  consult  with  these  system-mongers,  are  made  in 
ignorance  of  the  subject.  For  there  can  be  no  intelligent 
relief  devised  for  the  patient,  where  the  parties  to  the  con- 
sultation hold  such  fundamentally  different  views.  At  all 
events,  such  relief  could  only  be  devised  at  the  expense  of 
honesty. 

Legitimate  medicine   never  stood   firmer   than  she  does 


41 

to-day.  Her  Past  is  glorious,  her  Present,  bright,  and  her 
Future,  secure.  Holding  fast,  as  she  does,  to  the  revela- 
tions of  science,  as  science  becomes  more  certain,  so 
must  the  processes  of  medicine  become  more  certain.  She 
and  science  are  so  closely  connected,  that  if  one  falls,  the 
other  must  fall.  But  they  will  not  fall,  for  they  bear  the 
seeds  of  invincible  life.  Linked  arm  in  arm,  they  have 
marched  grandly  down  the  ages,  and  so  will  march  on  and 
on,  for  the  spiritual  and  material  betterment  of  mankind, 
''  to  the  last  syllable  of  recorded  time.' '  To  them,  with 
grateful  hearts,  we  dedicate  this  College  Edifice,  rich  in  all 
blessed  memories,  and  consecrated  by  the  purest  love  for 
science  and  humanity;  and  consecrated,  as  well,  by  the 
undying  affection  of  the  founder  for  him,  who  in  life  held 
that  affection  dear,  and  whose  bright  name  will  ever  shine 
resplendent  on  these  walls.  To-night  we  do,  indeed,  rejoice 
with  exceeding  great  joy.  Our  hearts  keep  time  together 
in  sweetest  music.  We  walk  with  those  great  souls  who 
in  every  age  have  lived  and  toiled  for  man.  In  such  blest 
hour  the  senses  swim  in  spiritual  seas  and  spurn  all  baser 
matter.  In  such  blest  hour  Christ  reigns  in  every  heart. 
And  to  him,  Levi  Cooper  Lane,  who  has  so  wrought  in 
the  cause  of  humanity,  whose  gift  in  that  cause  we  are  here 
to  acknowledge,  do  we  not  all  turn,  and  fervently  pray  that 
every  hope  in  connection  with  this  institution  may  be  more 
than  fulfilled;  that  he  shall  live  long  in  the  land  as  the  pre- 
siding genius  of  these  halls;  and  that  when  the  final 
summons  comes,  as  come  it  must,  it  shall  find  his  work 
complete,  and  exceeding  peace  within  his  heart. 


42 

And  to  you,  graduates,  who  are  probably  expecting  some 
parting  monitions  from  me,  I  am  spared  the  pleasant  task 
of  delivering  a  labored  address  to  you,  for  I  have  but  to 
point  to  the  circumstances  attending  the  erection  of  this 
building,  to  find  the  leading  elements  of  the  professional 
career — Concentration,  Reticence,  Prudence,  and  Self-sacri- 
fice. Concentration,  as  shown  in  the  unfaltering  purpose  of 
him  whom  we  now  honor;  Reticence  and  Prudence  illustrated 
in  this,  that  despite  the  urgent  inquisitiveness  of  a  curious 
public,  his  purpose  remained  an  undisturbed  secret  in  the 
breast  of  the  founder;  and,  as  illustrative  of  that  Self-sac- 
rifice which  your  profession  will  oiten  demand  of  you,  none 
can  be  more  impressive,  none  can  be  more  eloquent,  than 
the  crowning  act  of  the  donor,  who,  not  content  with  erect- 
ing this  edifice  out  of  the  earnings  of  his  own  hands,  makes 
his  Renunciation  complete,  by  writing  on  its  walls  the  name 
of  another  in  preference  to  his  own. 

Let  the  lesson  of  this  hour  remain  with  you  ever  and 
always ;  let  no  necessity  compel,  no  temptation  seduce, 
your  feet  to  devious  paths  ;  but  with  onward  stride,  through 
every  difficulty,  danger  and  trial,  may  you  "  press  toward 
the  mark  for  the  prize  of  your  high  calling."  And  remem- 
ber, with  the  poet,  that 

"We  live  in  deeds,  not  years;    in  thoughts,  not  breaths; 
'In  feelings,  not  in  figures  on  a  dial; 
We  should  count  time  by  heart-throbs.      He  most  lives 
Who  thinks  most — feels  the  noblest — acts  the  best. 
I.ife's  but  a  means  unto  an  end — that  end, 
Beginning,  mean  and  end  to  all  things — God! 


UNiv: 


LOS  A.Nbii.Lh:S 
LIBRARY 


